


i will love you without a single string attached.

by bringbackthelight



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, I'm going to stop now, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's just cute but in the saddest way, Monologue, No Plot/Plotless, Non-SHIELD AU, One Shot, Sad, Short One Shot, Tearjerker, This is probably the saddest fucking thing and for that I'm sorry, enjoy the fic, not really fluff but like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 23:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringbackthelight/pseuds/bringbackthelight
Summary: Fitz reflects on his love for Jemma, and the wonderful life she has given him.Basically Fitz talking to himself, or rather to Jemma, but Jemma doesn't respond (not because she doesn't want to, but she can't).





	i will love you without a single string attached.

**Author's Note:**

> English is definitely not my first language, so I apologize if I made any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes or any of that. This also happens to be my first fic (eek!) and that would explain why it's so bad. Anyway, enjoy this short plotless fic! I don't know why I decided to write this sad piece of shit.

Despite what everyone thinks, Fitz is doing just fine. Or, at least he thinks he is. He might not be as talkative or as enthusiastic as he used to be before everything happened, but was he ever really _that_ talkative to begin with? Besides, the people who contribute to the ever-growing pile of bouquets of flowers in his living room can fuck off. It’s not like they’re giving him comfort or whatever it is they think they’re doing by sending him useless bunches of flowers. He’s fine. It’s almost like a mantra he keeps repeating to himself these past few days. Yesterday, he was peacefully eating his apple in the park, hoping to inhale some of the positive energy the little kids playing in front of him were giving off. Instead, he just became reminded of how he would never be able to actually have the sight he was seeing before him in his very own backyard. _I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m going to be fine._ He kept chanting those two words inside his head. (Maybe if he keeps doing it, he will have it in him to believe it.)

And so now, as he’s strolling down the road from the now empty little cottage that used to be the home of two people and not just one lonely person, he decides to visit her — the love of his life. It’s a bit strange because, if someone had been walking down the street, and another person had asked them where they were going, to which the first person would reply “to visit the love of my life”, the normal impression people would get would probably be somewhere along the lines of “Oh! Have fun!”. No such person would ever think that “to visit the love of my life” would mean to go to a horrible place filled with many dead people. But here he was, in front of her grave, his eyes so heavy with tears but him so reluctant to cry.

At first, he didn’t know what to do. Maybe he should pray? No, he doesn’t really believe in any god. What kind of god would rob him of his happiness anyway? Or maybe he should just talk. He knows there was no way on earth she would talk to him back, but, whatever. He misses her. Misses the way she would smile at him with adoration whenever he looked at her. Misses the way his name would roll off her tongue so perfectly every time she called for him. Misses her voice. Her face. He just misses _her_. So he decides to have a go at it.

“Hey, Jems. Um, I-I miss you."

_God, why is this so awkward? I've talked to her a million times before. Why can't I do it now?_

"I keep thinking about how maybe, this is all a dream. That you never really existed and none of this is real and I’m just somewhere out there, creating fantasies for myself to compensate for the things I never got to have; to lull myself into a sense of security as the deafening screams of the outside world cave in around me. I don’t know. It’s stupid now that I think about it. It’s just — all my life, I’ve always felt like the world was against me. Like somehow, I could never be happy for more than a second. But when you came into my life, all I could think about was how maybe I was wrong about everything and how maybe, just maybe, you would be the one shot I get at finally being happy. And now that you’re gone, I... It just seems so unreal."

He hesitated for a second, choking on his own tears.

“Do you remember when we first met? We were 16 and achingly shy in a room full of people who were way bigger than we were and I was sitting by myself just hoping that something good could come out of being there. Then you came up to me. You asked me what my name was. “Fitz,” I said. Most people would have asked me a follow-up question, like “Just Fitz?” or “Is that your real name?” or something else that would make me uncomfortable. But you — you with your brown eyes and your kind smile — you just sat on the empty seat beside me and said, “Jemma”. And that’s when I knew.”

He was sitting down now. His legs felt like jello beneath him and he was shaking so bad that he couldn’t for the life of him keep standing so awkwardly like that. Not when he was talking to the most important person in his life.

“I don’t deserve you. Not really. You gave me everything I could ever need and more. But me? I never did anything that grand for you. I was never a source of light or happiness for you. Or at least, I don’t think so. Anyway, I… I just wanted to come here and talk. Everyone’s staring at me because, I mean, it’s kind of preposterous, isn’t it? Me talking to a meaningless piece of stone engraved with your name on it? But it’s okay. They can stare. I know you’re listening. Or if you’re not, I guess that’s okay, too. Things haven’t been so well. I’ve started waking up in the middle of the night, scared shitless by the cold and empty sheets beside me. And every time I do, I have to keep reminding myself that you’re safe, even if you’re not here anymore. Even if I can’t protect you anymore.”

By this point, he was fully sobbing his eyes out. He couldn’t care less about the many people giving him dirty looks, or the brownish stains he would get on his perfectly washed khakis from the grass and the dirt he was sitting on, or the fact that it was 8 at night and there were bound to be people looking for him after discovering his absence.

“Jemma, I don’t know what to do. You always tell me to be brave, but I don’t think I can do that this time because it’s different. Because you’re not here to help me. Jemma, please… please come back. Please. I’m _scared._ I’m _so_ scared. I don’t know what to do without you.”

Fitz sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to compose himself for the three words he had failed to say to her before she had slipped away from his life forever. He really wished it had been different. That he at least would have been able to say goodbye one last time. So now, in the middle of nowhere, in the place he wouldn’t have imagined to be the last time he would confess his love for this particular person, he took a deep, shaky breath and said it.

“I love you, Jemma. I always will. I will love you with every single thing I have.”

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, Jemma is not alive in this one if you couldn't already tell. I don't have a full story behind her death, but that's okay because it means you guys can give your own interpretations on how or when or why she died!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please, please leave comments because I do want to know how to improve for further fics. I really don't mind any constructive criticism! Thank you again and have a lovely day :)


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